Page 9 of With This Witch
Grog laughs at Lachlan’s insinuation. “Corruption? That is a bold claim, coming from the scourge of the underworld.”
Lachlan stands abruptly, leaning over his desk, pointing a finger at Grog as he starts to yell, “Listen here, you good-for-nothing slime bucket, you know nothing of my experience in the underworld.” He lowers his voice menacingly, narrowing his eyes as he looks down his nose at him and continues, “And you’d do best to watch how you speak to me. Trolls have a special place in the underworld, and I have many connections who would be more than happy to cash in a favor.” Grog’s green face pales at this threat.
Lachlan smiles smugly at Grog. He sits down purposefully and leans back in his chair, extending his legs and placing his boots on the desk.
Annoyed that he let Grog get to him and knowing he shouldn’t threaten harm on another council member, or anyone for that matter, he can’t help feeling that douche canoe deserves it. Grog consistently causes trouble in the council, and with the shit he just pulled on Petra, Lachlan has half a mind to call in some of those favors anyway.
He may not be a permanent underworld resident at this point, but he still has connections. He doesn’t talk much about what life was like for him down there because reliving it can be just as hard as experiencing it the first time. Instead, he visits when he needs to. When business or council interactions require it, he goes, staying for as little time as possible. Sometimes, he sends someone in his presence, but he would avoid going altogether if he had a choice.
Grog regains his composure and throws Lachlan a sneer as he sits down again. Councilor Clellugs glances between them. “If you two are done measuring your dicks, I want to close out this meeting.” Lachlan snorts, knowing he would win that too. Clellugs turns to Lachlan. “Councilor Grace, if you would look further into the werewolf restaurant plan and report back by the next meeting, we will decide on their request.” Lachlan nods his acceptance of the order. “Then, I call this meeting to a close.” They bang their gavel, and everyone stands to leave. Grog looks back and sneers again in Lachlan’s direction.
“You’d do best to watch your step, demon-boy. It would be a shame if you lost your seat here.”
Lachlan’s eyes flash gold as he stares Grog down, letting his demon surface. “What are you trying to say, Grog?”
Grog steps closer to Lachlan. “We already know Gladys won’t be here to save your ass for much longer. You would do well to choose your allies carefully.” Grog smirks before he vanishes into the air.
Fucking douchecanoe.
CHAPTERFIVE
Petra
It’s Friday morning, and the sun is streaming through the sheer curtains on the window, leaving a bright patch on the dark hardwood floor. Petra, partially covered in a fluffy purple duvet with her temperature-control foot sticking out at the corner of the bed, rolls over and looks at the clock, thankful that she has the day off. She reaches her arms above her head and stretches out while twisting her torso and reaching out with her toes as she thinks about the day ahead. Morris lets out a soft mew, objecting to being disturbed by her stretching while he sleeps by her feet.
Petra rolls over and sits up, reaching toward her toes and petting Morris as he stands, stretching his little murder mittens out in front of him before moving toward her pillows, where he extends and curls his front paws, making biscuits on the duvet, eventually curling up in a ball and going back to sleep. As she leans to the side to kiss him, she sees a text alert light up her phone.
Lachlan
There’s a present for you in the hallway.
A jolt of excitement courses through her. Her magic belatedly sparks awake, humming with energy as it picks up on the traces of Lachlan’s shadows lingering nearby. If it were anyone else, her power would have shocked her awake as it sensed a threat, but being so comfortable with him means he can use his shadows to deposit gifts.
She grabs her housecoat from her bedroom door and slides it on, tying it around her curves, eager to see the gift he left for her. Petra opens the door and spots the elongated box. It’s about sixteen inches long, bright purple, with a familiar gold script on top. BellaDonna,a witch-owned florist in Leeside, specializes in arrangements to “let life grow anew” as their slogan says—which means they imbue their bouquets with spells requested by the sender. She smiles, imagining what kind of flowers he chose for her and sends her magic out to sense what kind of spell she may encounter. It never hurts to be prepared.
Sensing a simple “pick-me-up” spell meant to help her have a better day, she picks up the package and brings it inside. She places a hand on each side and lifts the lid, hearing the softshhhpparting sound as the box lid comes off. Inside lays a bouquet of white ranunculus, purple calla lilies, and blush roses with a small white envelope. She opens the note and reads:
Petra,
I can’t wait to marry you ;). Let’s enjoy a date night to celebrate. I’ll pick you up tonight at 7.
- Lachlan
Feeling inspired by the flowers’ spell, Petra decides to do something that makes her happy. She spends the morning preparing some activities she wants to do with her preschoolers next week before enjoying some quiet time reading in the mid-fall sun as it beats down on her balcony. As the day shifts into early afternoon, she showers and dresses in dark jeans, a gray T-shirt, and a light jacket before heading to Gammy’s.
Gammy’s butler greets Petra at the door and takes her to the sunroom where she finds Gammy sitting with a book and a cup of tea at a little bistro table. “Good afternoon, Gammy,” Petra says, leaning over and kissing her on the cheek before sitting in the opposite chair.
“Hello, my darling granddaughter. How are you on this wonderful day?”
“I’ve certainly been better. But the impending marriage thing notwithstanding, I am…fine, for lack of a better term.”
Gammy drinks from her cup, letting the silence sit between them long enough for Petra to begin to feel uncomfortable. Finally, Gammy breaks the tension. “It is an unfortunate situation, but I do think it is about time you start showing an interest in the council. Perhaps this challenge, while ridiculous for Grog to suggest, is the exact push you need.”
Petra’s mouth opens and closes silently as she attempts to find words to counter the verbal slap she just received. “I never asked for this. Or expected it so soon,” she finally whispers, eyes on her hands as she fiddles with sugar packets in front of her.
“Neither did I. But I accepted my responsibility to the family and to the community. And you knew it was coming eventually.”
“I shouldn’t have had to do this for many years yet. It was supposed to be Dad. I’m not ready,” Petra all but pleads.
